Real in the Imaginary World
by alatariel-gildaen
Summary: When their daughter tells them that she no longer believes in Father Christmas, Peeta and Katniss do what they can to make her believe once again. Written for Prompts in Panem's holiday challenge


**A/N - Thanks as always to Court81981 for being the world's best beta, and for her endless patience :)**

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**December 16****th**

"Daddy, is it true Father Christmas isn't real?"

Peeta's head snapped up from the holly leaves he was forming from fondant icing to gape at his five-year-old daughter. He exchanged a quick, worried glance with his wife, who was currently nursing Tobey, their infant son, and her face reflected his own panic.

"Of course he's real, cupcake, whoever told you he wasn't?" he answered smoothly, hoping to hold his daughter's attention long enough for his wife to recover a cool exterior.

"One of the boys at school said so."

"Well," said Katniss in an authoritative tone, "I wouldn't be surprised if one of the boys at school is on the naughty list this year. He's probably jealous of anyone who is getting presents."

"The naughty list?" asked young Freya.

"Mmm-hmm," agreed Peeta. "If you've been naughty, Father Christmas doesn't bring you any presents. He has a big, long list with the names of every boy and girl in the world, and he only gives all the good boys and girls presents."

"Oh." Freya seemed contented with this for a little while, and Peeta watched fondly as she decorated the plain biscuits in front of her with colourful lines of icing and edible glitter. "Daddy, am I on the naughty list?"

"No, cupcake! Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea?"

She looked embarrassed, and her little legs swung from the chair as she dipped her fingers into the bowl of icing. "I did something naughty."

"What did you do?"

"Yesterday when I asked for something from the sweetie tin, and you told me to ask mummy, I only pretended to ask."

"Oh, really?" said Peeta, and once again he caught his wife's eye. She was biting on her lip and trying not to laugh, and when Freya turned around to look at her, Katniss tried to arrange her features to look stern.

"Well, Freya," said Katniss, doing her best to maintain a straight face, "that really was very naughty of you. But, I think Father Christmas knows that you didn't mean it. And now that you've come clean, you're bound to be back on the nice list again."

"Are you sure?" she asked, and she sounded so terrified that Peeta had to stop what he was doing. He picked his daughter up and swung her around before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"I'm sure, cupcake. But if you like, I'll ask Father Christmas myself."

"You know him?"

"Sure do. We go waaaaaay back."

"Thanks, Daddy," she replied, and she threw her arms around her father's neck, leaving traces of sticky, pink icing over the back of his hair. He placed her back down on her stool, and within seconds she began to decorate the plain biscuits once again.

With one last look at his wife, he went back to shaping the fondant icing into perfect holly leaves. He was only five or six himself when his oldest brother had told him that Santa was a myth. In tears, he'd asked his mother if it was true, and she had said, "Well, you needed to find out one day." Childhood Christmases had never felt quite as magical since, and he was determined not to allow some little punk to likewise ruin it for his little girl.

**December 18****th**

The youngest Mellark child was sound asleep in his mother's arms, and the older of the two was beginning to yawn much more frequently. Their living room was a mess of large sheets of drawing paper spread out over the floor, colourful wax crayons and pencils, and in the middle of all the clutter, Peeta and his daughter. The two of them were playing a game, where one would start a drawing and the other would finish it. Freya was trying her hardest to avoid letting either of her parents know just how tired she was, and Peeta was far too involved in the game, so he hadn't noticed how sleepy she was becoming.

"I think someone's definitely ready for bed," said Katniss, after Freya gave a particularly wide yawn.

"No way, I'm wide awake," said Peeta, looking up at his wife.

She raised an admonishing eyebrow at her husband, and he shrunk slightly under her stare.

"Ok, ok. Come on, cupcake. Bedtime."

"I'm not t-t-tired," she yawned.

"You're not fooling anyone, Freya," laughed Katniss. "It's the weekend tomorrow. You can play again in the morning, ok? Get into bed, and I'll be up to read you a bedtime story."

With only a minimal amount of protesting, Peeta managed to get his daughter upstairs and into her favourite pyjamas, while Katniss put Tobey to sleep in his cot. As Peeta tucked Freya in, Katniss came in carrying an old, dog-eared book of bedtime stories. Her mother and father had read to her from the same book when she was Freya's age, and her grandparents had read from it to her father, and she was exceptionally happy to be able to continue the tradition.

Freya's favourite story was _Hansel & Gretel_ and as per usual, that was what she insisted Katniss read to her. By the time the wicked witch was stoking the fire, Freya was fighting to keep her eyes open. Katniss reverently closed the story book, and leant over her daughter, gently kissing her brow. Freya stirred slightly but didn't respond. Peeta did the same, and Freya blearily opened her eyes.

"Daddy?" she asked, fighting against the sleep that was taking her.

"Yes, cupcake?" he whispered.

"Today, Michael said again that Father Christmas isn't real."

He felt a stab to his stomach. If this boy kept behaving this way, he'd be seeking out and having very stern words with his parents. "Well," said Peeta, fighting to keep the anger from his voice, "Michael doesn't know what he's talking about."

"He said his brother told him so, and his brother's in big school."

Another older brother ruining Christmas for everyone? He took a deep, calming breath before speaking. "Well, a long time ago, I was at big school. Then I went to bigger school. And then I went to even bigger school. So, I think I can pride myself on knowing a little bit more than Michael or his brother, ok, cupcake?"

"It's ok, if he's not r-r-real, daddy. I love you."

"Love you, too," Peeta replied, his heart breaking at his daughter's words.

"Love you times a million."

"Love you times a million plus one."

"Love you times a million plus two," she said, slowly and quietly, as sleep took her once more.

"Wow," whispered Peeta to her sleeping form. "That's a lot."

He kissed Freya good night, pulled the duvet up under her chin, and left her to sleep. Once out of her room, he pulled her bedroom door shut with a sigh and leant back against the frame. He adored his little girl and didn't want to see her growing up so soon. There had to be something he could do to make sure she continued to believe in magic….

"Come on," said Katniss, taking him by the hand and leading him downstairs. After checking that the baby monitors were working, the two of them curled up together on their sofa.

"She'll have a good Christmas, no matter what, Peeta," said Katniss, once the two of them were comfortable.

"That's not the point," he replied. "That little shit shouldn't be spoiling it for everyone."

Katniss sat up a little straighter. "I hope you're not thinking about taking it upon yourself to have words with this little boy."

"No," he said, quelling under the stare his wife gave him. "No, of course not."

"Peeta," she said, her tone much softer, "I know you want her to stay your little cupcake forever. But kids grow up. We always promised each we wouldn't stop them growing up at their own pace."

"She's five, Katniss. Five. She's not grown up. I won't apologise for wanting her to stay innocent."

His fingers were idly drawing small circles over the curve of his wife's waistline, and she melted further into his embrace. "How about we take her to meet him, maybe?" she suggested. "Panem Sanctuary has a grotto set up. We could go on Sunday, make a day out of it."

"Sure thing," he replied, placing a kiss on the top of his wife's head. They had nothing to lose taking her there, after all.

**20****th**** December**

Freya Mellark adored going to Panem Sanctuary. She especially loved meeting the horses, stroking their soft, velvety snouts, and gave a squeal of delight as Katniss showed her how to feed them, and they took the proffered treats from her tiny, flattened palm.

Once they had met and made friends with every last animal, and Freya had asked Peeta and Katniss if they could take each of them home, they began to queue up for the log-cabin grotto. Tobey had spent most of the day asleep in his push-chair, but woke up and was utterly fascinated by two girls dressed as elves who were doing close-up magic and making balloon models for the kids in line.

One of the elves approached the Mellarks, asked Freya's and Tobey's names, and at her request, began to make a penguin balloon model. When the elf asked Freya if she was excited to meet Father Christmas, Peeta and Katniss wanted the ground to open up underneath them, as Freya responded loudly, "No, because he's not real."

"Yes, he is, cupcake," said Peeta, smiling apologetically at the scores of parents who looked ready to lynch the young family.

"We'll see."

Once inside, Freya was, at first, overcome with shyness. The man dressed as Father Christmas sat next to a large, open fire, resting his gloved hands on his enormous belly. Three decorated trees, each with a pile of presents underneath completed the picture. Peeta had to admit, this was probably the best Father Christmas he'd seen. If he wasn't able to convince Freya, there wouldn't be much else that could.

Freya clutched tightly to her mother's hand as she eyed the man warily. However, it didn't take too much encouragement from her parents, before she walked up to the kindly-looking man, who asked her what she wanted for Christmas. "A pony," replied Freya. "But I know I won't get one."

An odd, eerie silence fell over the log-cabin, as if everyone in the world collectively held their breath The silence was filled for a moment with the sound of sleigh bells, before standard sound came back to the world.

"Well, have you been a good girl this year?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Then you never know what might turn up on Christmas morning."

Freya rolled her eyes, "But mummy and daddy aren't going to get me a pony, and you're not the _real_ Father Christmas."

"Whatever makes you think that, Freya?"

A frown knitted Peeta's brow. How did he know her name? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Katniss leant in towards him and whispered, "The elves must let him know. Nice touch. Had me going for a moment."

Freya had been contemplating the question before she answered, "Because, if you were the real Father Christmas you'd be in the North Pole, making presents."

The man in the costume winked and tapped the side of his nose. "I have magic on my side," he whispered conspiratorially. He reached down beside him and handed Freya a small, wrapped gift. "This isn't your main present," he said to her. "You'll get that on Christmas Day. But I hope you like this too."

"What do you say, Freya?" said Katniss, as her daughter took the present.

"Thank you."

"You're very welcome. And I think I might just have a little something special for young Tobey, too. Will you help him open it, Freya?" Freya nodded, but remained silent as she took the gift for her younger brother. "Don't forget, make sure you go to bed nice and early on Christmas Eve, so I can come and deliver your presents."

They wished the man dressed as Santa a very merry Christmas, and backed out of the log-cabin.

"Wasn't that great, cupcake? Meeting Father Christmas like that?"

"Hmmm," responded their daughter. "I don't think he was the _really real_ Father Christmas. But that's ok, daddy. Can I go meet the horses again?"

"Sure thing, cupcake," he sighed sadly, as Freya skipped ahead.

"Look, Peeta, she's happy," said Katniss, squeezing Peeta's hand. "She's not upset at all by it. Don't let it ruin your Christmas. It isn't ruining hers."

"That's not the point."

"What _is_ the point, then, Peeta?"

"I don't… I don't know. I just don't want her to give up on magic so soon. Let me try one more thing to make her believe, ok?"

**24****th**** December**

By Christmas Eve, Freya still wasn't convinced that Father Christmas would be showing up. But Peeta still had the ace up his sleeve; he had managed to procure a costume, and he and Katniss had worked out a plan to make sure that Freya caught a glimpse of him. Every night, when Katniss and Peeta went to bed, they would check in on their daughter. Most nights Freya would stir as they checked on her; so tonight, when Katniss went in, Peeta would make a load of noise downstairs, and it would give Katniss the perfect excuse to allow Freya out of bed, just for a moment. She would see Peeta in costume, putting presents under the tree, and go back to bed full of wonder and excitement at the following day.

Before taking Freya upstairs, Katniss had reminded her that they needed to leave some food out for Father Christmas.

"Why?" their daughter asked.

"It's hungry work, going all the way around the world in one night. He needs to keep his energy up."

"We should probably leave him something to drink too," added Peeta.

"Sherry, perhaps?" said Katniss. "That's what we always left him."

"No, everyone leaves him sherry. I reckon he gets bored of it. I think he'd probably prefer a beer, to be honest."

"Would he now?" said Katniss, slipping Peeta a sly wink. "Oh, and we mustn't forget the carrots, too."

"Carrots?" asked Freya.

"For the reindeer," explained Katniss. "They need to eat too."

So, with her parents' help, Freya left a plate on their doorstep with a mince pie, a handful of carrots, a bottle of beer, and a bowl of water. The two of them then took her up to bed and tucked her in.

As soon as the coast was clear, Peeta pulled on the Santa costume, shoving a few cushions into the jacket to pad out his belly. All the presents had been hidden in cupboards, and Katniss helped Peeta load them into a large sack. Up close, he wouldn't be fooling anyone, but he hoped from a distance it would be enough to convince his daughter.

"You look ridiculous," laughed Katniss, as he pulled the fake beard on over his face.

"Really? You don't think this is a good look for me?"

Katniss sidled as close to him as the padded costume would allow, and pulled the beard down. She gripped the lapels on the front of the bright red jacket, and pulled Peeta towards her, crushing her lips into his. Eleven years together, and still every kiss from her made his heart race. Slightly breathless, she pulled away from him and said, "All I'll say is that I can't wait to get you out of it again."

A lop-sided grin spread over his face. "Let's get this done as quickly as we can, then, wifey." Just as he covered his face once more with the fake beard, a strange silence descended upon the living room, as if the world was collectively holding its breath. For a split second, Peeta could swear that he heard the faint sound of sleigh bells before once again the world began to breathe.

If Katniss noticed anything peculiar, she didn't mention it. Instead she said, "See you soon, Mr Claus," and adjusted Peeta's hat to perfection before leaving him alone.

He waited until he could hear Katniss heading into Freya's room, then walked around the living room with heavy footsteps before kneeling in front of the Christmas tree. One by one he pulled the presents from the sack, placing them reverently under the tree. He made sure he kept his face hidden, as he heard movement out in the hallway, so that their unusually astute daughter couldn't tell that it was him.

After a minute or so, he heard Katniss take Freya back to bed, then quickly finished piling the presents under the tree, desperate to get upstairs to his wife. Remembering that the food outside needed to be eaten to maintain the illusion, he quickly went to the front door, and raised his eyebrows at the sight that greeted him. The mince pie and carrots were gone, and an empty beer bottle stood next to the plate. Katniss must have got in there first before going to get Freya. Shaking his head a little, and grinning at his wife's appreciation for food, he quickly went upstairs to their room.

"How was she?" he asked, as soon as the bedroom door was closed.

"She seemed pretty excited," Katniss grinned, stepping closer to him. "You're a great dad, you know."

"And you're a perfect mum. And a perfect wife," he added as Katniss opened the red jacket, throwing the cushions he had used as padding on the bed. She pulled the hat and fake beard away and discarded them on the floor before allowing Peeta to tilt her chin upwards and capture her lips in a soft insistent kiss.

Katniss helped him out of the rest of the costume, which they hid in the wardrobe as a precautionary measure, knowing how likely it was that they would be woken at a pretty unreasonable hour by their daughter. But they still had several hours to kill until such an intrusion was likely. And they planned on using that time very wisely indeed.

**25****th**** December**

It was barely 5 o'clock in the morning, when Katniss and Peeta were woken by their excited daughter. "Mummy! Daddy! I saw him! He's real!" she hissed, as her parents began to stir.

"Told you," mumbled Katniss, as Freya clambered into bed between her parents. Katniss put her arm over her daughter, and placed several kisses on the back of her head.

"But he's _real,"_ Freya repeated. "I saw him."

"I know, cupcake," said Peeta, smiling in his half-asleep state as he rolled over to face his daughter. "D'you see him putting presents under the tree last night?"

"No," laughed Freya. "That was you dressed as him, silly-billy!"

Peeta fully opened his eyes to look at his daughter. "No it wasn't," he protested.

"Yes it _was_," proclaimed his daughter. "I saw him eat the mince pie outside, but he wouldn't come in because you were still awake. But then he came back. When you were asleep, he came back!"

A slight frown creased his brow as he tried to process the information. He hadn't eaten the food they'd left out; Katniss must have done. Freya must have been dreaming.

"Issreally early," he slurred, closing his eyes once again. "Tell us all 'bout it in th'morning."

"But Daddy," she said, her tone urgent and insistent. "He was _just_ here. Just now. And he left us presents."

"I know," said Katniss, and Peeta could hear the sly tone creeping into her voice which inevitably meant that his time in bed was about to be cut short. "Why doesn't Daddy go and make all of us some hot chocolate, and then you can open one present now, before breakfast. Ok?"

Freya couldn't contain her excitement as her parents slowly sat up in bed. Peeta ran his hand over his eyes, then over his unshaven jaw and took a deep breath before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Grabbing hold of his dressing gown, he wrapped himself in the soft, towelling robe, and followed his excitable daughter out of his bedroom.

As he prepared three steaming mugs of hot chocolate, he heard Katniss slowly trudging downstairs. She set Tobey in a high chair before wrapping her arms around her husband's waist. "After last night, I was hoping for a bit more of a lie-in this morning," she admitted.

"Well, maybe we can tire Freya out enough that she'll want to have an early night. And then, maybe, so can we? Continue where we left off."

"Perfect," she replied, a wide grin covering her face.

"Mummy! Daddy! Hurry up!" said Freya, bounding into the kitchen and interrupting their moment of intimacy. She turned on her heels and ran up the hallway, back to the living room.

"Come on then," said Katniss, disentangling herself from his embrace. She picked up their son and followed Freya through, as Peeta placed the three mugs of chocolate on a tray.

"Peeta?" his wife's voice called through to him, edged with confusion.

He grabbed the tray and wandered through, immediately to be faced with what had caused his wife's confusion. In the middle of the room, tied up with a beautiful bow, was a carved, wooden, Victorian-style rocking horse.

Peeta stared at the horse, his jaw hitting his chest. "Did you…?" he quietly asked Katniss.

She shook her head in response. "Nothing to do with me."

"It's what Father Christmas brought me," explained Freya patiently, rolling her eyes at her parents.

Tucked into the bright red bow around the horse's neck was a card. Freya pulled this card open, and as she did so, Peeta swore that he could hear the faint sound of sleigh bells. Written on the card, in beautiful script, was a single word. '_Real.'_

In a hushed voice, Peeta turned to his wife. "You ate the mince pie we left out last night, right?"

"No. Are you telling me that you didn't eat it either?"

He shook his head, and Freya began to laugh. "It was Father Christmas. He's real. See?" She held up the card for her parents to see.

A wonderful magic was at work, and outside the window, a brief glimpse of a shimmering movement caught Peeta's eye. There was a strange silence, as if the world collectively held its breath for just a moment, then out of nowhere, snow began to fall in thick, fluffy flakes that settled around the window panes immediately. The Mellarks were certain that once again they could hear the gentle sound of sleigh bells ringing, before the world finally began to breathe again, and the strange silence was replaced with the sound of birds singing and the distant, steady rumble of traffic.


End file.
